Circle
by Firepelt
Summary: Based on the Flyleaf song, Circle. Erik desperately loved Christine, arms outstretched for her until he died.
1. Act I

Circle

A Phantom of the Opera Fan fiction in Five Acts

By Firepelt

ACT I

_Circle encircles the earth_

_Chance and Choice break his heart_

_His innocent arm moves _

_To save me and I am saved_

'_You have to leave!'_

'_What?' _

'_Go now!'_

Paris, December 21, 1881

_Don't look back. It will only cause you more pain. You silly girl, thinking that you could save him… You foolish child, thinking that he was lying… You… you… you…_

Christine Daaé looked around the ruined lair of the Phantom of the opera. He had once been there as well, until the mob. Sometimes, if she imagined it, she could feel his arms around her, his soft kisses, his gentle tears… Those were the last memories that she had of her Phantom. He had been cut down, and she had just stood and watched, with her Vicomte at her side. She had betrayed him, and left him with his arms stretched out for her. They had been stretched out until he died. It had been only a year ago, when he died, and still, the mob had not completely ruined his lair. His beautiful organ was broken, and torches were scattered on the ground. Christine spotted something on the floor. It was a white mask, the mask of her Erik.

'Erik?'

No reply. Of course there was no reply. He was long dead, and he wasn't coming back. For all she knew, he was damned to hell for what he had done to so many people, to so many that were innocent…

'You were innocent too, Erik.'

Christine kissed the mask and curled up once more on Erik's bed. She let a few tears fall onto the velvet blanket, and fell into an uneasy slumber.

Paris, May 14, 1880

Christine looked at the cast for Erik's opera, Don Juan Triumphant. Once again, she was the lead. Erik hadn't come to teach her the songs though, and her maestro was not as skilled as the dark Angel himself. As Amnita, Christine was to sing with the casted Don Juan, Piangi. Piangi was a short, somewhat plump man, with a very powerful tenor. She missed her Angel's voice though, and hoped that he would return to the stage and sweep her away once more.

'Christine,'

She turned to face Meg Giry, her best friend. Meg looked worried, and Christine couldn't understand why.

'Raoul wants to speak with you.' Meg said quietly. 'He's waiting in the back hallway.'

Christine didn't know what it was all about, but she decided to go and see what Raoul was up to.

'Little Lotte, you must!'

Raoul looked around frantically for any sign of the Phantom of the Opera. Erik had been on his tail since the day Christine met him on the rooftop.

'I can't, Raoul. I'm scared, and alone in this. We can't… What horrors wait for me in the Phantom's Opera?'

Raoul hugged Christine and kissed her on the forehead. He heard a noise and looked toward its source. There was nothing in the corner where he heard it. It was then that a haunting voice echoed throughout the hall.

'I am your Angel of Music…'

Christine got up and ran. She couldn't bear to face Erik, not after she had just talked to Raoul about his death… It couldn't be done!

Erik sat in his underground lair, sulking as usual. How foolish he was, to think that she had maybe even the smallest sliver of compassion for him. How foolish he had been to go to the Masquerade. He had almost kissed her that night. How foolish he was to have brought her down to his lair, to sing to her the Music of the Night, and even more than that, how foolish he was to think that he could love her like Raoul could.

'Let my opera begin!' Erik cried as he set aflame the small diorama of the stage. He watched as the little figurine of Christine withered in the flames. He was sure he could see tears coming from the little figure's eyes. He then took the Erik figurine and snapped one of its arms off. He heard a cry of pain, but he knew it was all in his head. Slowly, he dismembered the likeness of himself, throwing each piece into the fire, with the now scorched little Christine. Before tossing the rest of the Erik figurine into the fire, he took off its little mask, and beheld the marvellous likeness to his own face. He had carefully carved scars into the right side of the figurine's face, and covered it with a white mask. He was sure that if the little Erik could think, he'd know what was coming next.

Erik screamed a tormented, two-tonal scream, and threw the little Erik into the fire, where he seemed to dance with the little scorched Christine. The figurines were soon turned to dust, and Erik looked at the last one remaining. It was a little Raoul that he had made after Christine had told him about her boy. He threw the small Raoul into the lake, where it calmly settled to the bottom.

Christine stood on the stage, waiting for Piangi. He didn't arrive. It was opening night for Don Juan Triumphant, and the Don Juan had disappeared. Christine closed her eyes and waited for what she knew to happen when crowds were displeased. The jeers never came. Instead, an angelic voice cut through the silence.

'Past the point of no return, the final threshold!'

It was Erik! Her true maestro had returned. She dared not look at him, for fear of seeing anger in his eyes. Erik approached Christine and spun her around to face him. There was no anger in his eyes, only sadness and hurt. Christine let her own tears fall as Erik sang to her, and as she sang back to him.

'Do it, Christine… Take off his mask, and reveal to me this Phantom of the Opera!' Raoul whispered from Box 5. He watched intensely as Erik leaned forward to kiss his Angel. Christine then did the unthinkable. She ripped off Erik's mask and wig and exposed him to the crowd. That was when she saw the anger in his eyes.

Erik's emotions raged within him. How dare she humiliate him in front of all of Paris? It was not what was supposed to happen! Erik knew in his heart of hearts, that although she may have once cared for him, he would never have a happy ending with her. In a fury, he cut the rope holding the chandelier, and watched as the patrons screamed and ran in terror of the raining fire. This was his ending. Just like Little Erik. Just like Little Christine. Erik was sure that Raoul would drown in the lake, just like Little Raoul. He kicked a switch and fell through the fire on the stage down through a trapdoor, all the while, holding onto Christine.

Christine looked at Raoul as she fell and mouthed the words, 'Don't' follow me…' She knew that Erik would never let her go, not until he died. Erik was always there, inside her mind.


	2. Act II

ACT II

_His beautiful arm_

_Is bloody and cut off_

_His heart ripped out to show me_

_He loved me_

_But I would not believe him_

_He did all that he could_

_I still did not believe him_

Christine wept as Erik threw her on the swan bed. She knew what was going to happen next. She knew he would always be with her, but not as Erik. He would be there as a child, a child born of the most unfortunate circumstances. Erik leaned close to his Angel of Music, and closed his eyes. Christine waited for what she knew he would do. It never happened.

'Erik…'

Erik opened his eyes and pulled away from Christine. He growled at her and turned away.

'Don't look at me.'

Christine approached Erik and placed her hand on his shoulder. He gasped as he felt her warm touch upon his flesh. Why was she still there? Hadn't he told her to stay away? Why was she showing such compassion to the man who had killed and destroyed most everything she knew?

'Why are you still here?' he asked as she stooped down beside him.

'I… Erik, I…'

Erik didn't need her to finish the sentence. He turned to look at her, and saw the purest tears rolling down her cheeks. He hated himself for making her cry. He knew what she was going to say, but he couldn't say he felt the same. Not to her face. Not yet. Christine looked at Erik and stood up. She threw her arms around him, and stood on her toes to kiss him, for he was much taller than she. She liked the feel of his lips. There was no deformity there. Erik suddenly broke the kiss.

'No, my Angel, not now.'

Christine could tell that he wanted the most intimate thing he could get from her, but somehow, he restrained himself. Perhaps it was his sadness that prevented him from loving her, but what it was, she would never know.

'Erik, I…'

She was at a loss for words. She placed another kiss on his lips, and he began to sob. He got down on his knees and wept, for he was in such a moment of weakness. She sat down beside him, and realized what was going on. She would never know why she thought what she did, but her actions she knew, broke his heart.

'Erik… You're manipulating me again, aren't you? You're not crying for me, you're only crying for yourself. Drowning in self-pity as always…'

Erik looked up at her. 'No, Angel, I love you so… Please, don't think of me like that… I love you more than life itself. I would lay down my life for you...'

Christine turned her back on Erik, and stomped off into the bedroom of his underground house. She could hear Erik's cries as he pleaded outside the closed door for her to believe him. She knew she had hurt him, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to believe his words.

'Christine, please…'

Erik tried to open the door, only to find that the Angel of Music had shut him out. He suddenly seemed to take down the door with sheer strength. Christine gasped and cried out for her Vicomte. Erik looked sadly at her.

'What must I do to show you that I love you?'

Christine looked at Erik and noticed that his arm was bleeding. He had a gash across it, from the hinges of the door, and the sleeve of his shirt was stained with fresh, crimson blood.

'Oh, Erik… Don't come any closer…'

Erik couldn't resist his Angel though. She was so tempting. It was just like the night when he had first brought her down to his lair; except for she had loved him then. Now, she only felt hatred.

Erik soon tired of Christine's foolishness and grabbed her waist. He threw her down onto the bed and pinned her down with his weight. With one hand, he began to unbutton his shirt, while holding her still with the other. She gasped.

'Erik, you wouldn't!'

Erik was desperate for love, and his response sent chills down her spine.

'I would.'

Christine felt a wave of euphoria as Erik thrust his manhood inside of her. She gasped and cried out, but he seemed to be lost in the darkness of his own mind. His mind was his prison. Erik gasped as Christine began to tighten around his member, and wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes, and placed her hands on his perfect chest. He truly was an Angel, although fallen, and lost; yet he loved her with such a passion, that her heart screamed to her to tell him she felt the same. Her mind screamed no.

'Erik, please, it hurts!' Christine gasped as Erik gave a final thrust. She felt his warm seed fill her, and heard him cry out.

'Angel, what have I done?' Erik collapsed on top of his darling Angel, and buried his face in her auburn curls.

'I'm so sorry.'

Christine suddenly snapped. 'No you're not. You never will be. You've gotten what you wanted from me. Why don't you kill me now like you did every other unfortunate soul who came in contact with you?'

Erik rolled off of her, and sat up in the bed. He looked sadly at her.

'I'm sorry, Angel, I really am. I only wanted to show you that I loved you… Perhaps I loved you too fiercely?'

Christine shook her head. 'That was not love, Erik, that was lust.'

Erik sobbed and stood up. He vowed then, to never lay a hand on the Angel ever again.

He pulled on his pants and left Christine in the bedroom. She could hear him pushing things over as he wandered to the Music Room, where his majestic pipe organ waited for him.

Erik couldn't play music. He couldn't do anything. He felt awful and ill. Perhaps it was lust that he felt for his Angel of Music, but he doubted that so deeply. He knew in his heart that it was love that he felt, and he only wanted to make his love for Christine last even longer. He hoped that she would come to terms with the fact that he loved her.

Christine threw on her dress, and stomped out of the bedroom. She wandered to the underground lake, and saw that Erik was not there. Instead, outside the gate, Raoul waited for her.

'Lotte, what has he done to you?'

Christine's hair was disheveled, and her dress was ripped. Erik had used such force when he had taken her.

'He… I… I belong to Erik now. He has made me his.'


	3. Act III

ACT III

_I left his arms empty and tied_

_Outstretched for me until he died_

_I left his arms empty and tied_

_Outstretched for me until he died._

Raoul looked around for any sign of Erik. He beckoned Christine to come to him. She waded through the water to him, and opened the gate to let him in. Raoul wrapped his arms around his Lotte, and noticed Erik moving silently toward them. Raoul pulled a gun from his jacket, and pointed it at Erik.

'I've lead them to you, Monsieur, and they will kill you. The patrons survived, and now they come to track down the murderer.'

Erik backed away from Raoul and turned his back on the two lovers.

'Let them come. I fear them not.'

Erik was such a brave soul, but even he could not fathom the horrors that would come to him.

'Go now.' He murmured to Raoul.

'Take her and forget me. Forget all of this.'

Christine gasped. He was letting her go! She was joyous and miserable at the same time, for a part of her cared deeply for Erik, and even a larger part of her loved him. She heard the mob coming toward the gates and quickly closed the gate behind her and Raoul. Erik turned to look at her, a solitary tear running down the deformed side of his face. He turned away from her once more, and whispered almost inaudibly, 'I love you.'

Christine felt the tears welling up in her eyes, but she called them tears of hatred. She wouldn't believe that she loved Erik. Not for a long time though, would she come to terms with what she had done to him.

'Track down this murderer!'

The mob was getting closer. Erik could barely stand it any longer. He whipped around and faced Christine and Raoul.

'Go! Go away!' he screamed at the two.

Christine couldn't' watch anymore. She was still a rabbit hearted girl and she couldn't bear to watch Erik get killed, no matter how many times she told herself that she hated him.

'Damn you, Erik. Damn you to hell.' She cried as she took Raoul's hand.

Erik said nothing.

Christine and Raoul ran down a path that Christine knew as a secret exit from the underground lair. She heard Erik cry out, and heard a ripping noise and the sound of a gunshot. She dared not look back though, for fear of seeing Erik running after her.

Paris, May 15, 1880

Christine and Raoul snuggled in the back of a horse drawn carriage. Christine was in tears, for she felt that she had lost something dear to her, although Raoul told her that Erik was not of importance. As they arrived at Raoul's mansion, Christine asked for a moment alone. Raoul, who loved her dearly, agreed. As soon as he was out of hearing range, Christine told the driver to go back to the Opera. The driver of the carriage turned and revealed his face, which had been hidden under a top hat, and a scarf. It was Erik.

'Eri—'

'Hush my love. I 'm here.'

Christine couldn't believe her eyes. Erik was alive, and seemingly well. She embraced him, and he gave her a one armed hug. Curious, she looked under his cape to see where his other arm was. It wasn't there. Where his left arm used to be was a bandaged stump. It seemed to have been cut off a bit before the elbow. She gasped. The bandages were stained with fresh blood, and Erik winced in pain as she touched his arm.

'I didn't want you to see.' He said as she kissed his arm. He shivered. Oh! How sweet it felt to have her kiss his arm!

'Erik, I thought you were dead…'

Erik shook his head. 'No, but I won't lie. I wanted to die after you left me. I had to find you again. I love you…'

Christine still couldn't believe him. She climbed into the front of the carriage, and Erik began to drive toward the Opera. As Christine looked back, she saw Raoul standing awestruck. How in Hell's name could Erik have survived the mob? Raoul pulled out a gun and fired it at Erik. Christine felt Erik jolt backward, and she took the reins.

'Don't…' Erik muttered as he felt the carriage moving faster. 'Don't save me.'

'I have to save you. It's the least I can do for you after what you did for me. I could have been dead, Erik, and you saved me.'

Back at the Opera House, Erik and Christine travelled through the mirrored door and through the hallways to Erik's lair. When they reached the majestic underground house, Christine helped Erik back to his bedroom. Erik collapsed on the bed and took his right hand off of his chest. His hand was covered in blood. Christine gasped. Oh god! What had Raoul done to Erik? Erik looked at Christine and smiled.

'It will be alright.'

Christine nearly snapped again. 'Alright? You think you'll be alright after what he did to you?'

Erik laughed. She was still as feisty as ever, even in her moments of weakness. He tried to sit up, but her hand pushed him back down again. Her touch was gentle, and he closed his eyes.

Christine noticed how peaceful he looked as he slept, and smiled. She secretly wanted to snuggle up beside him. Once again, her heart screamed yes, but her mind told her no. Erik curled up into a ball and his breath became softer and softer, until it was barely audible. Christine felt his pulse, making sure that he was still alive. He was, but he seemed very weak. She sat down on the bed and took off his mask and wig. She ran her fingers through his thinning golden hair, and kissed his deformed cheek. He let out a sigh and she watched to make sure that he didn't wake up. She pulled the covers over him, and lay down beside him, falling into a deep slumber beside him.

The next morning, Erik woke up without his mask, his wig, or his shirt. He noticed that his chest had been bandaged as well, and that his wounds had stopped bleeding. He looked around for Christine, but she wasn't in the bedroom. He got up and staggered toward the door. It swung open, and Christine, with his shirt in hand, stared at him.

'What are you doing up?'

Erik smiled. 'I could ask you the same.'

Christine wasn't surprised that Erik was up, although she had no idea what he would do with himself now that he had only one arm. She assumed that he couldn't play music anymore, and could barely conduct. There was nothing that she could do about his lost arm, which was nowhere to be found in the lair. She guessed it had been thrown into the lake.

'Erik… I… wanted to thank you… for saving me from the mob.'

Erik sighed. 'It wasn't likely that they would have hurt you. I saved you from nothing but the sight of my own demise. '

Christine felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She didn't want to cry in front of Erik. She didn't know how he'd respond to her tears, now that she had seemingly betrayed him. Erik noticed her tears, and reached toward her. He wiped the tears away from her eyes, and she couldn't help but let a sob escape her.

'Erik… I'm sorry…'

'Don't be. It's not your fault.'

'Erik… I wanted to tell you something.'

'Yes, love?'

'I… I…'

Christine couldn't say it. She couldn't let him know. He would take advantage of the fact that she cared, and she didn't want that. Yet, she still loved him so much. She wanted to stay with her Phantom, but she knew she couldn't.

'Never mind.' Said Christine as she turned away from Erik. She noticed the scorched diorama of the stage, and spotted a burnt and dismembered little figurine of Erik. She gasped. Had Erik cut off his own arm? She tried not to think about it, until she saw the burnt figurine of herself. It was then that her nightmare was complete.


	4. Act IV

ACT IV

_No man shows greater love_

_Then when a man_

_Lays down his life_

_For his beloved._

'Erik… what did you do?'

Christine turned back to her Phantom. She was terrified of how he'd react, but she was sure that he wouldn't hurt her.

'I… wanted it to end that night. It was to be my finale. Unfortunately, I survived.' He looked sadly at her. 'I'm sorry, but after that night on the roof… after the Masquerade… after watching you perform Don Juan Triumphant, I decided… I decided…'

Christine started to sob. 'Erik! I wanted to tell you sooner… I wish I had…'

Erik was confused. What was she going to say? He had half a guess, but he didn't want her to say that. Not when he was at his weakest moment. He cursed himself in his mind. How he hated what he was! Oh! If only he had been born handsome! None of this would have happened if he had been handsome! Erik closed his eyes and waited. Christine wrapped her arms around Erik and kissed him once more.

'Erik… I…'

'Don't say it, Angel.'

'Why not? Don't you feel the same?'

Erik pushed Christine away. He retreated to the music room. Christine stayed put. She heard Erik scream in the music room. She wanted to go to help him, but she didn't want to face his wrath. Somehow, her love overpowered her fear, and she ran to the music room. Erik had taken off the bandages on his arm. He had started to bleed again, and he had begun to destroy his beautiful pipe organ. Christine ran to Erik and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him away from the pipe organ.

'Erik, no!'

Erik let out a sob and tried to get away from Christine. She didn't let him go, for she loved him so! Oh! How lovely it was to feel him near her, despite the circumstances, and how lovely it was to know that he was only a man! He had not ascended to Heaven when she declared her love for Raoul on the rooftop, and he had come back when she had needed him most. Erik calmed down and turned to face Christine. He kissed her forehead.

'I love you, my Angel.' He whispered to her.

Footsteps were heard. Christine shivered, because she knew what was going to happen. Erik looked at her, tears in his eyes.

'It's my time, Angel. I'm sorry. You must hide!'

Christine kissed Erik once more and ran to his bedroom. Erik approached the underground lake, where the mob was waiting.

'Kill this murderer!'

Erik looked at the mob and laughed. 'I fear you not. I welcome death with open arms!'

Raoul, who was standing among the crowd slipped away and began to search for Christine. He found her in Erik's room, in tears.

'Lotte, I love you…'

Christine looked up and nearly smacked Raoul. She was furious, and sad, and couldn't decide what to do. She cried, and Raoul wrapped his arms around her. He felt so different from Erik, and she hated it. Raoul could never be Erik, and would never be Erik. Christine then realized where her heart belonged.

'Raoul, we have to save him!'

Raoul shook his head. 'No, Lotte, we can't save him.'

Christine screamed and tore herself from Raoul's arms. She ran to the underground lake, and saw the mob tearing her Erik apart, literally and figuratively. Christine was horrified. He had cuts all over his body, and his one remaining arm was broken and bleeding. She cried to the mob to stop, but she could see that there was no saving Erik. Raoul came out of the bedroom and cringed at the sight of the bloody Erik. Christine cried out again and ran to the mob. She broke through them, and wrapped her arms around Erik.

'You'll have to ill me first.' She said coolly as she sheltered Erik's body from the hands of the mob.

'No, Angel. You must not save me.' Erik said. He tried to sit up an kiss his Angel, but he fell back with a cry of pain. His chest had begun to bleed, and Christine could see that he must have broken some ribs. She looked at Raoul and cried to him.

'Make them go away!'

Paris, May 24, 1880

As Erik lay dying, Christine tended to his wounds, trying to keep him alive.

'Forgive me, Erik… I always loved you. I choose you!'

Erik shook his head. 'No, Angel. You cannot choose me. Not anymore, and especially when you are in this frame of mind. You're driven mad by the sight of blood. You do not love me. You pity me, yes, but lo—'

Christine silenced Erik with a passionate kiss. He had healed well, but he was still in pain, and was taking unbelievable doses of Morphine to stop the pain. She felt it was safe for her to climb into the bed with him.

'Come back to me, Erik, my Angel…'

Erik smiled. "I wish I could come back. I want very much to come back to you.'

Christine kissed Erik's chest, and he groaned.

'I want to take all of your pain away, Erik.'

The two lovers slept wrapped in each other's arms that night. Christine was hopeful that Erik would survive. He had been so passionate that night with her, and although he had been in pain during their loving, he had not died on her. Erik was hopeful as well, hoping that he would get his happy ending. He knew that Christine had turned him from the Beast into the Prince. He felt like he was ascending to heaven, and he never wanted to come down. Occasionally, he'd feel pain in his chest, or his broken arm, but he felt well enough to keep fighting for life.

In the morning, Christine got out of the bed, and wandered into the music room. She found Erik's violin, still intact, and smiled. She knew Erik could never play it ever again, but he could still teach her. She brought the violin back into the bedroom and shook Erik from his sleep.

'What did you find, Angel?' Erik asked as he opened his eyes. He saw the violin and knew what Christine wanted.

'You want me to teach you? But how, when I can no longer play?'

Christine put the violin up to her shoulder and took the bow.

'Place my fingers where they should go, and guide me, as if I was singing.'

Erik smiled and beckoned for Christine to sit down beside him. He placed her fingers on the violin, and taught her a simple song he had composed as a child. Christine was delighted.

'Erik, thank you…'

Erik nodded and leaned forward to kiss Christine. Oh! How soft her lips were! Erik lay back down in the bed and closed his eyes. Little did he know though that Beast never got his happy ending.


	5. Act V

ACT V

FINALE ULTIMO

_I believe_

_What if I believe you now?_

_Could it ever change this heart?_

_Forgive me, believe me_

_Please come back to life_

_Come back to my life_

Paris, August 25, 1880

Raoul sat in his bedchamber, thinking about Christine, and how she had abandoned him. He had to win her back, for he loved her so! Oh! But it was the Phantom who had hurt their love so much! It was all Erik's fault. It was always Erik's fault in Raoul's mind. Raoul grabbed his gun from the desk near his bed, and headed off to find Erik and Christine, and to win his Lotte back.

'M. Le Vicomte, where are you headed tonight?' asked one of Raoul's servants as he headed toward the stable, where his white horse waited.

'I'm going to win her back.' Raoul said, tears filling his eyes.

Raoul took off on horseback toward the opera house, yet in the back of his mind, he worried about what would happen if he really took Erik out of the picture. Would Christine ever forgive him? Would she hate him, or would he be grateful? All these thoughts spun in Raoul's head. What about _her_ wants? Was he really that selfish, as to take away the thing she loved most? Raoul thought once more of Erik, and how Christine had kissed him ever so passionately as he lay bleeding and dying in her arms. Perhaps, he had died already, and perhaps, Christine was just waiting for him. He doubted that greatly though, since Christine wasn't the type to stay where something she loved had fallen. He was sure of that fact.

'Erik, what if he comes back? What if they come back?'

Erik looked up from composing a new piece of music. Christine had tears in her eyes. She saw that Erik had not healed fully, and knew that he was in no condition to do strenuous work. He especially wasn't in any shape to face Raoul, who was fully healthy, and had two arms.

Erik stood up and wiped Christine's tears away.

'If he comes back, then you know that it is my time. Remember though, that I will always be here for you.'

Christine started bawling her eyes out. That wasn't what she wanted to hear. Christine wrapped her arms around Erik and lay her hand on his chest. She didn't want to lose him. She wanted to have a happy ending with him, for he was the Prince. Erik, on the other hand, had begun to realize that he would never get a happy ending, especially when he was crippled and unable to play music. He didn't want to live like that. He didn't want Christine to have to bother herself with him every day, although he loved her so.

'Angel, don't fret. I love you, and I will never truly be gone.'

Christine gasped. 'Don't talk like that, love!' she cried. Oh! How pitiful it was to see Beauty and her crippled Prince, together waiting for the mob to return, Raoul at the lead.

Erik took Christine's hand and led her to the bedroom. He sat down on the bed and beckoned for her to join him. She sat beside her true love, and snuggled up against his side. His arm moved around her, and rubbed her back as she continued to cry.

'Why do you cry for me, Angel?'

Christine looked up. She noticed that Erik had tears in his eyes as well. 'Erik… if you die… how will I ever survive? You've given me so much, Erik, and I can't bear to lose you… Don't put me through that torment! Don't put our child in a position without a father… Eri—'

Erik gasped. What had she said? A child? No… it couldn't be…

Erik felt sick, and looked sadly at Christine. 'Oh, my Angel! What have I done to you? What poor child will be born of our love? What if…'

Christine silenced Erik with a kiss. 'Erik, I love you, and I'll love anything that comes of our love.' She smiled at him. What a relief it was to see her smile!

Erik still had doubts though. 'What if our child… I can't let a child suffer my fate!' Erik turned away from Christine. She turned him back around and removed his mask and wig. His blond hair fell in strands across his face.

'You're nothing short of beautiful, my Prince.' She said.

Her hand touched Erik's face, feeling the familiar contours and deformities. She did not flinch, or shy away from him, even when he looked into her eyes. All she could see in front of her was the Angel of Music. He was the Angel who had given her the chance to love again. She had a second chance, and that was all she wanted.

Raoul travelled down the hallways to Erik's lair, all the while keeping his hand at the level of his eye. He knew, even with only one arm, Erik was dangerous, and could act out in violence to him if he tried to take Christine. He turned a corner and heard voices. An angelic man's voice blended with a sweet, melodic soprano, and he knew what had happened. Christine had made her choice. She had chosen Beast; her poor deformed Prince. Raoul knew he had lost. In a fury, he ran toward the sounds of the voices, and watched from afar as Christine and Erik stood in the lake together, naked and pure, bodies pressed together as if they were puzzle pieces, meant to fit together.

'No! Lotte! Come back to me!' Raoul cried.

Erik looked up at Raoul's cry, and wrapped his arm around Christine. She looked at Raoul and shook her head.

'No, Raoul. I've decided. I want to stay with Erik for the rest of my life. I love him…'

Raoul was appalled and disgusted. How could she love that monster? How could she love a murderer? Wasn't he the Prince, and Erik the Beast? Why wouldn't Beauty choose the true Prince?

'They'll only come back.' Raoul said, a smile spreading across his face. He laughed.

'You cannot hope to escape the mob this time! I made sure that they'd kill you, M. Phantom!'

Raoul had lost it. A gunshot was heard, and Erik stumbled back. Blood ran from his shoulder, and Raoul held the gun up again, and placed his finger on the trigger. Christine gasped.

'No! Raoul, wake up! Can't you see that I love him?' She stood in front of her wounded Beast, and spread her arms, as if she could protect Erik like a shield. She didn't hear the military sneaking up behind her. She saw Raoul lower his gun, but heard another gunshot. Erik groaned and fell into the lake.

'Erik!' Christine cried out as she saw her poor lover fall. She pulled him out of the water, but he was in no shape to survive. Her arm was grabbed, and she was pulled away from Erik. Raoul ran to her and wrapped his arms around her. 'Lotte, it will be alright… His spell is broken!'

Christine watched in horror as her poor lover was nearly torn to shreds by the armed men. She screamed and broke free of Raoul's arms , but not before grabbing his gun. She ran to Erik, and kissed his cold lips. He was dead.

'How many bullets are left, Raoul? Is there one for you?'

'You wouldn't kill your lover, Christine.'

'You're right, I wouldn't.'

Christine pulled the trigger.

Bang.

Paris, December 21, 1881

Christine cried even harder as she remembered the feel of Erik's lips. They had been so soft, so pure. She had loved kissing him. It had been a year since she had lost him, but she had something to remember him by. A little boy, Danté, born of a forbidden love. Danté was perfect. His pale skin was flawless, and his cries were nothing short of angelic. It was as if Erik lived on in his son. She knew in her heart, that Danté would grow up one day, and she knew that he would become a renowned musician, just as his father should have been. Danté cried from the music room, and Christine ran to find him playing with Erik's violin. 'Danté, I could have sworn that you were asleep, my dear.'

Danté picked up the bow of the violin, and held it in his tiny hand. The baby boy looked up at his beautiful mother, and he could have sworn that there was a masked man with his hand on her shoulder.

As the years passed by, Christine grew older, and Danté grew up. He resembled his father in so many ways. His beautiful hazel eyes were just like those of his father, but he had curly dark hair like his mother.

'Danté, what do you have behind your back?'

It was Danté's eighteenth birthday, and Christine guessed that he had found his present.

'I found this in the music room.' He said, pulling a red rose with a black ribbon from behind his back.

Christine gasped. Danté had never presented her with red roses. Not even for a show. His roses were always white with gold ribbons. This rose belonged to Erik. Christine stood up and wandered into the bedroom. She returned with a white mask, and showed it to Danté.

'I never told you much about your father… I think it's about time that I do. '

Danté sat down beside his mother, and Christine began to spin the tale of the Phantom of the Opera.

'_It happened many years ago, when I was only twenty…'_


End file.
